The Cook (1918)

There isn't much of a story to this little picture, and many of the bits are lifted whole cloth from the earlier short, The Waiter's Ball (1916), with at least three of the main actors: Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, Al St. John (Fatty's nephew, as it happens), and Alice Lake. Not that it matters: Arbuckle directed both pictures, so he could do what he wanted. This time around, in 1918, he added spice in the form of 23-year-old Buster Keaton, who had not been on the scene the first time around.

Arbuckle is still the cook. Keaton replaces St. John as the waiter who likes Alice Lake, who is still the pretty restaurant hostess. Al St. John gets to be a creepy drunk masher from whom Lake needs to be rescued, and Arbuckle's real life dog, "Luke" the Pit Bull, gets to chase him up ladders and bite him on the seat of the pants a bunch of times. The beginnings and ends of some of the reels are missing, which gives the short an especially jumpy and disconnected feel, but the skill with which Arbuckle and Keaton work their slapstick magic is completely worth the time. And even though the gag is repeated a few times, watching Fatty toss a glass of milk and a bowl of soup to Buster who catches them on the fly without spilling a drop is priceless.

Keaton is less stoic of expression than in his later films, though still fairly deadpan. In The Cook, he's a handsome little devil, pretty flirty, and very cute when he's angry. He gets to dance an exotic, Egyptian-ish gavotte with a skinny belly dancer while Arbuckle does a fantastic parody of Salome in the kitchen in a bra made of pots and an artfully placed dustpan. Keaton does some spectacular falling and diving, and it's clear that he and Fatty Arbuckle are having a grand time. The Cook would be last film Keaton made before going off to fight in France as a private in the U.S. Army. We're all very lucky he came back.

It's a beautiful, silly, expert ballet, but for restaurant staff, their hands are unbelievably dirty.

Brother Orchid (1940)

What happens when a gangster (Edward G. Robinson) tries to quit the game, class himself up in Europe, then fails miserably after five years of gambling and overspending? Why, he runs afoul of his former lieutenant (Humphrey Bogart) and winds up in a monastery, pulling the wool over the eyes of a bunch of nice mugs who don't know no better.

Brother Orchidis the name Brother Superior Donald Crisp gives Little John (Johnny) Sarto (Robinson), the gangster in question, who has decided to become a novice at the monastery while recuperating from a gunshot wound or two received at the hands of new gang boss, Buck (Bogart)'s henchmen. The brothers run a flower-selling operation, see, and Johnny figures to get in good with them while hiding out.

He's in this mess because his girlfriend, Flo (Ann Sothern), tried to help mend the criminal fences between Johnny and Buck after Johnny tried to resume his seat as boss after his long absence. Buck, understandably, wanted nothing of this, so while agreeing to go along with Flo's idea of a one-on-one, kiss-and-make-up meeting between the two gangsters out in the boonies someplace, he decided instead to bump Johnny off for good. A sensible plan that leads a wounded Johnny to the zinnia patch.

As Brother Orchid, Johnny has gained a reputation among the brothers as a hard worker who gains extraordinary results. Some of this is true, but Johnny has been getting a local boy to supplement his efforts on the promise of pay. That promise goes unfulfilled and the boy's father complains to Donald Crisp, who calls Johnny out in front of all the guys. This, in turn, makes Johnny feel like a real heel for the first time in his life and promises -- genuinely -- to be a better brother.

While Johnny was away those five years, by the way, Flo had started keeping company with Clarence Something-or-Other (does it matter? It's Ralph Bellamy doing what Ralph Bellamy does so well), a big chivalrous rube with lots of money. Flo still loved Johnny and was pretty up front about it in front of her ostensible beau, who, being Ralph Bellamy, kind of took in stride. But since Johnny disappeared that fateful night, everyone believes him to be dead, including Flo and Clarence, who eventually plan to get married now that it's six months later.

At the flower market in town, Brother Orchid sees the wedding announcement in the paper and rushes off to confront Flo, who he thinks double-crossed him. Flo explains that Clarence is really a good guy and not to be sore, she thought he was dead after all and it was really Buck's fault and by the way, Buck is on the lam, because he bumped off a guy, ran some insurance schemes, and has a tax problem. Johnny and Flo make up.

But Johnny/Brother Orchid learns that some of Buck's gangsters are shaking down the monastery flower market for protection and he is thoroughly appalled. He explains to Brother Superior Donald Crisp that the monk's life is not for him, but he learned an awful lot, see, and he's really grateful there are mugs like them in the world. He'll take care of the shakedown, see, just you wait.

Back in street clothes, Johnny helps Flo tell Clarence the wedding's off, and while initially ruffled, Clarence is appeased by being allowed an evening of vigilante justice alongside his semi-drunk rancher buddies who are in town for the wedding and who now, at Johnny's request, get to set up on the jerks trying to intimidate the monks instead. The gang of good guys set upon the gang of bad guys and a fist fight ensues. Who should be hiding with the gangsters, but Buck! Johnny and Buck fight, Johnny wins, the cops come and sew everything up.

But Johnny is a new guy. He tells Clarence to go marry Flo, because he's better for her and besides Johnny would have just treated her bad anyway. Which is kind of believable, since he 1) didn't take her to Europe to begin with FIVE YEARS AGO and 2) has basically ignored her since coming back. So he goes back to the monastery.

OK.

While not without its charm, Brother Orchid, is a bit uneven. I don't think anyone told Bogart it was a comedy, but then again, maybe it wasn't. Perhaps I'm just miffed because it promised more Allen Jenkins (Officer Dibble; Torchy Blane's beau) than it delivered, but maybe it just wasn't all that great. Or not a comedy. Or whatever.